


Say It Right Back

by ViciousInnocence



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Daddy Issues, Daddy Kink, Implied/Referenced Incest, Just smut, M/M, Smut, before the apartment burns down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 21:02:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9677060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ViciousInnocence/pseuds/ViciousInnocence
Summary: He tells himself he only wore Dennis’ jeans because his are all dirty. It’s definitely not because of how they hug his thighs and stretch tightly across his ass. It’s not his fault if he forgot to put cologne on every other day, so it looks like visiting his Dad is some kind of special, isolated occasion, when it’s really not.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tomo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomo/gifts).



> Thank you to Tomo, who beta'd this back in December, HA. To be fair I have had a busy 2 months though...anyway, gifted to Tomo, bc without you, this fic would not exist (bc I wouldn't have written it while waiting for the next chapter of your fic, L O L, no pressure). Also; bc the thirst is real and nobody else writes this shit (please help us). Enjoy xoxo Happy (early) Valentine's everyone!

When Mac gets back to the apartment he goes straight to their shared kitchen and drinks. He leans himself up against the counter and pours their whiskey, straight.

He downs it in one, and as soon as the glass touches the work surface, his other hand is pouring out a refill.

He leans his forehead against the kitchen cupboard above him, his head is swimming.

He’s wasted, having stopped off at the closest bar to the prison and continued drinking throughout the remainder the day - culminating now in the half-empty bottle of whiskey at home.

He doesn’t want to think anymore – he’s sick and drinking’s the only cure.

There’s the sound of the door crashing shut behind him and a greeting shout from Dennis once he realises the lights are on. He sounds drunk too.

“Unh.”

Dennis’ footsteps walk through to the kitchen, stopping at where Mac guesses he likes to lean on the counter in the adjacent corner.

They stand in silence for a few slow minutes, Mac taking another long drink, at the same time Dennis decides to speak.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Mac slowly lowers the glass, feeling the burn slipping down his throat and spreading warmly through his stomach.

He grunts out a reply in fashion of his mother.

Dennis sighs in frustration. He’s had over twenty years of this, of trying desperately to help Mac with his issues. But he can’t do shit when Mac gives him nothing to work with.

Dennis takes a long inhale of air that feels like it’s going to become a spiteful remark, until his eyes catch on something new;

“Are you wearing _my_ jeans?”

Mac doesn’t reply, too drunk to deal with Dennis he only drinks a little more, leaning his weight against the counter with his eyes shut, the world washing around him.

Dennis bites his lip as he lets his eyes wander.

“I know those are my jeans,” Dennis mumbles, and after a few seconds Mac hears him coming closer, but isn’t expecting a pair of hands to slap against his ass, and breath in his ear,

“Because they make your ass look amazing.”

Mac stumbles forward in shock, the wooden cupboards shaking and the bottle of whiskey rattling on the surface.

“But you know that, don’t you?”

Dennis whispers in that tone soft like velvet, his hands smoothing over the swell of Mac’s ass to the top of his thighs. Mac’s eyes are wide open as he’s pushed up against the kitchen counter, heart thudding against his ribs when Dennis squeezes with his hands. 

“You wear them all the time, for important dates, like you think I don’t notice.”

Mac feels himself weakly pushing back in silent encouragement. He can only guess Dennis struck out in a bar tonight, and came rushing home with a one track mind. His cock gives a small twitch underneath his jeans, as one of those large hands slips up his body to grip his jaw.

“As if you think I’m not going to realise when you’re parading yourself around Guiginos, despite the fact you know I like to spend the whole time looking at _you_.”

Mac decides that Dennis can think what he wants, because he’s already shut his eyes, picturing someone else behind him. And instead of feeling uncomfortable at the fact he’s being manhandled up against the kitchen cupboards, Mac has a sick thrill running right through him.

“I just want your attention,” he breathes, falling into the role, feeling blood flow down between his thighs.

Dennis is practically purring at this point,

“Well, you’ve got it now haven’t you?”

Dennis’ voice is hitting a certain deep note that does something to stir up heat inside of Mac’s chest, the fingers clutching at his jaw turn his head, creeping into his mouth, starting to play with his tongue.

Mac teases the fingers forcing their way inside him, cheeks flushing a deep red as it slowly becomes more difficult to breathe around them.

With his other hand Dennis is palming him through his jeans,

“Can’t help yourself, can you?”

Dennis grinds against him, he’s not as hard as Mac is right now, but he’s too drunk and satisfied to get embarrassed about it. He sucks on the two fingers stroking his tongue and dreams they belong to somebody else, as the others slide in alongside them, filling his mouth and slowly killing the air in his lungs.

Dennis doesn’t stop until static rages behind Mac’s eyes and he starts to choke. Mercifully the fingers at the edge of his throat begin to retreat, small dribbles of saliva trailing off them down his lips as Dennis unzips his jeans to the sound of his own heavy breathing.

“I want to hear you beg.”

White spots fly around in Mac’s vision as he licks one last stripe up Dennis’ finger, pausing to suck on the finger-pad. Dennis’ breath is hot on his neck, leaning up close to press his lips to Mac’s ear,

“I can’t hear you.”

Mac pulls away, he’s still panting for air, he doesn’t care if he’s easy, Dennis is pushing down his jeans one-handed, so slowly, _way_ too slowly. Mac throws his head back, leaning his weight against Dennis, his head resting on the juncture of the other’s neck and shoulder.

“ _Please_.”

When Dennis gets his fingers under the waistband of Mac’s boxers, he’s still moving too slow, Mac’s eyes are still closed, his mind’s a drunken mess and the words slip out in a breathless whisper:

_“Daddy - please.”_

Dennis freezes.

“What?”

“ _Dennis,”_ Mac sobs, screaming a different name, seeing a different face, in his mind.

But Dennis has latched onto it, he leans in close, pushes down his underwear with one hand and finally grips Mac’s cock with the other.

“Call me Daddy.”

Mac can’t help it, he moans pathetically, low in his throat, his dick throbbing under Dennis’ cool spit-slicked fingers. Dennis gives him a quick squeeze with one hand, the other running underneath Mac’s shirt, over his abs.

His hands are all over him, his body’s hot pressed up against his own. Mac feels small, submissive and the position he’s caught in makes him feel like he’s being possessed. His pulse jumps and he moans when Dennis scratches his fingernails down over his nipple.

“Do it.”

Mac’s breathing slowly now, deep inhales as he tries not to think about it, not to come too fast as Dennis starts moving the slicked up hand along his dick.

 _“Daddy,”_ Mac groans, his whole body burning up with the shame, as Dennis crowds in even closer, the hard line of his dick now up against Mac’s ass. 

Dennis presses his lips to Mac’s ear in a kiss, one hand moving faster as the other sneaks down to stroke at the sensitive patch behind his balls.

_“Good boy.”_

Mac’s breathing hitches, mouth dropping open as the last waves of his orgasm threaten to eclipse him entirely. He's fully aware now that they're both thinking of the same thing. It’s too much to try and hold together any longer.

He lets loose with a string of obscene moans and pleas that he doesn’t want to remember, submits to Dennis completely, sobbing pathetically when Dennis bites roughly into his skin.

Dennis moves his hand faster and faster, turning his attention to Mac’s neck, teasing the sore skin with gentle kisses, meeting his lips with Mac’s own when he turns his head. It doesn’t take long before Mac’s moaning into his mouth as he comes over a fist, some of the white fluid spattering against the cupboards and the bottle of whiskey.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments fuel my fire of depravity c: also; s/o to canon GayMac #party


End file.
